


One Way Ticket

by Gold_On_The_Ceiling_42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode AU: s10e03 Soul Survivor, supernatural season 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gold_On_The_Ceiling_42/pseuds/Gold_On_The_Ceiling_42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't Dean who swung that hammer at Sam. </p><p>While Sam is busy curing the Deanmon, Adam Milligan is mysteriously raised from Hell with nothing but the clothes on his back and a vengeance against those who left him there. But soon the three brothers will find out that everything, even the most miraculous, comes at a price, and that price could be the fate of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading! So if you haven't guessed from the minimal tagging, this is a story that takes place during season 10 episode 3 (I recommend rewatching it before reading) and then kind of branches off into it's own thing. This was written months before the season 10 finale, so obviously the story goes in a bit of a different direction. Enjoy! (The first chapter is really short but they get longer)

Ch.1

Introductions

Crowley looked around his throne room and watched the other demons squirm in discomfort. He waved away the clinging smoke in the room, all that remained of the demon who mocked him. What was his name? Crowley decided it didn’t matter. As his eyes passed over the torches and gray walls, he remarked on how well this room was lit. It was as if sunlight were streaming into the space instead of screams..... Not that he liked sunlight. Though the phenomena had fascinated him during his.... affliction, it moved him no more. Crowley shook his head and took note of the large queue growing at the door of the hall. He was pleased to see that no one made a move to step forward, their eyes glazed with fear and respect. Excellent. If only Dean had shown him some respect.

“Listen up everyone!” Crowley said powerfully, enjoying how a few troublesome demons flinched, expecting punishment. “I have gathered you all here for a purpose. I need my very best. I have a task for you.” Crowley’s voice dropped to a dangerous hiss. “I need someone to kill Dean Winchester.” He paused, and let the silence condense. One by one the demons converged in conversation, whispering as they all looked to another to step up to the task. Crowley was displeased to see that they all appeared to be afraid to take out the newly minted Knight of Hell. Then, amidst the murmuring, a voice rang out, clear as a bell.

“I’ll do it.” A hush fell over the demons, as everyone turned to face who had spoken, a tall man in the far back of the crowd. Crowley leaned forward, interested, but found he could not make out the demon’s face. He gestured for the man to step forward. Once he did, Crowley could do little but stare and gawk. Finding so many anomalies with the man- no, _boy_ would be more accurate- he decided to speak on the most obvious one.

“You’re not a demon.”

The blonde haired boy sighed. “No, but when I die I probably will be.” Crowley smirked.

“You’re not a demon, but you think you can take on a Winchester? A Winchester who is also a _Knight of Hell???_ One of those things is bad enough, but put those two together and it’s a nightmare for demons, humans, and angels alike.” 

The boy chuckled. “Where I’m from would give nightmares even to the King of Hell. Your Majesty.” Crowley disliked the sarcasm spoken with his title, but found himself intrigued by the human. It wasn’t often there was anything other than a demon in hell. Speaking of demons, the crowd at the door were watching intently, looks of delight on their hideous faces. They clearly expected the boy to be punished for speaking to the king so frankly. Crowley hadn’t decided, but he did know that he wanted to find out who this boy was. He got up from his throne and walked down from the dias to the boy in front of him, and began to pace around him. The boy, irritated, matched his pace, until the two were circling each other, firing questions and responses.

“How does a human end up in hell?”

“Is that a joke? Wasn’t everyone in here human at some point?”

“Just answer the question.”

The boy sighed. “Most are dragged down by hellhounds. I was dragged down by something much worse.”

“A demon?”

“My brother. Speaking of which, I’ve been trying to find him.” The boy stopped pacing and glanced at the demons in the back and frowned slightly when he did not find what he was looking for. He resumed pacing.

“Your brother? Oh, do I have experience in family drama.” Crowley smiled as the boy rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. The hounds came for your brother as his ten years were up, and he tried to have them take you instead of him. Happens all the time.”

“Something like that.”

“What doesn’t make sense is how you’re still human. Or not on the torture rack.”

“True but I’m not going to explain anything. Do I get the job or what?”

Crowley liked the boy’s sass but something was off about him. It wasn’t often demons, or humans, threw themselves into something as stupid as hunting a Winchester unless it was personal. “Hold your horses, boy.” Crowley said. “Surely you’ve heard rumors of the Winchesters.”

The boy smirked. “I have.”

“All the more reason to run scared. What makes you so special?” And suddenly Crowley knew who this boy was. The cocky attitude, the way he held himself, high but incredibly beaten down. And Crowley knew he had found his assassin. He still had to be sure though.... “I'll ask you again. What makes you think you can take down Dean Winchester?”

Adam Milligan smiled. “I’ve been in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for 600 years. I think I can handle my brother.”


	2. Down, Down, Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the first chapter was so short, here's the second! Once again, this takes place all in 10x03, and will for several more chapters. Enjoy!

Ch.2

Down, Down, Down

Adam woke up in an empty cemetery under a blue sky. He sat up and groaned, seeming to ache everywhere. Adam rubbed his stiff neck as he got his bearings. Well, he wasn’t in hell anymore, for starters. Looking down at himself he saw that his body was in relatively normal condition, and he was wearing the same clothes he had had on when he was first possessed. Something metallic clinked as he adjusted his dark green jacket, and reaching into his pocket Adam found a pair of handcuffs. He grimaced. He had momentarily forgotten why he was raised from hell, but it was coming back to him now. The way Crowley had thrown the cuffs at his feet, declaring that they would render Dean powerless. He had written instructions for a summoning spell on a red sheet of paper and placed it in Adam’s breast pocket before dragging him out of the throne room by his elbow, the throng of demons parting around the pair like a soulless sea. Adam had barely had time to snatch up the handcuffs before he had been whirled away on a roller coaster ride as his body and soul rushed to the surface. He remembered panicking, wondering if he would feel an angel’s grasp around his ankle, wondering if Michael and Lucifer would change their minds, pull him down, down, down. Michael and Lucifer....

No. Adam squeezed his eyes shut. Now was not the time to think of his time in the cage. He pictured the tinted memories at the back of his mind, out of sight, and slowly they receded. Adam let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and calmed a heart rate he hadn’t realized had been hammering. Crowley had said, right before sending him topside, that hell would follow Adam on earth. His memories would torture him unless he found a supernatural way of dealing with them, like Sam had done. The mention of his brother sent his blood boiling, but Adam held his feelings back. Already he could feel the darkness in the recesses of his memories creep forward, ready to burn away his sanity. Adam was determined to fight it, though, and was certain that he had enough time. Enough time to do what he needed to do. Speaking of which.....

Adam, still sitting on the hard cemetery ground, searched the remainder of his pockets for anything else useful to him. He found Crowley’s note, and chuckled when he saw that the stationary was not only red but had little devil’s horns in the corner. Apart from the weird ingredients on the page, (daffodils? really?) Adam was surprised to see an address for some place in Lebanon, Kansas. No way could it be that easy. Finding nothing else in his jacket, Adam stood up, wincing as his legs creaked and groaned. He felt like he hadn’t stood up in.... well, 600 years. Squinting against the harsh sunlight, Adam blinked to make out the words on the black iron gate a ways ahead of him. His blood ran cold when he did. Stull Cemetery. This was where it had happened, where he had fought as Michael’s strength took over every cell of Adam’s body, been forced through being burned alive, his heart sinking and his stomach plummeting as Sam had reached for him and dragged him down, down, down.... Michael and Lucifer were directly below his feet.

Adam shook with anger, and it was this that propelled him to put one foot in front of the other, until he was standing at the cemetary gates. Looking back at the stone cold graves, one thought was coursing through his thoughts. He wanted to get revenge. On Sam, on Dean, on Michael, Lucifer, anyone who so much as represented the horrors that had happened to him. He wanted to see how they liked being dragged by their own blood down to certain doom....

Adam’s thoughts were interrupted by his stomach growling rather loudly. Feeling suddenly faint, Adam realized that he was both really hungry and incredibly parched. His throat felt like it had been rubbed against sandpaper., and he was beginning to feel faint. Food. Adam would get food, and then hunt down his brothers. Food, water, and maybe some sleep. Then revenge. Food, water, sleep, maybe get some money and some weapons. Food, water, sleep....

It was this train of thought that kept Adam moving as he walked from Stull Cemetery to inside the outskirts of Lawrence, Kansas. Quickly locating an abandoned tan car in an alley, Adam smashed the window with his elbow before unlocking it and climbing inside. To his luck, a wallet had been left behind next to the seat. Looking inside, Adam let out a low whistle. $600. That would cover lunch/dinner, easy, as well as any number of motel rooms he may need on his way to Lebanon. Seeing that it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Adam went outside to the car’s hood and hotwired it like one of his mom’s boyfriends had shown him. Was it John?....No. John was off limits right now. The car started, and Adam peeled away, off to the closest burger joint and wherever the road took him.

It was 12 o’clock the next day when Adam left a motel in the middle of nowhere in an indistinct grey sudan. A different car than the tan nightmare he had originally taken, Adam peeled out of the parking lot, rut more like it, heading west at 100 miles per hour. He had lost time, he thought to himself grimly, sleeping in and eating lunch. The sooner he killed Dean, the better, before his memories got free. It had been worth it, though, he lamented. The hot shower, the horrible food, getting a map and seeing with relief that he wasn’t very far away from his brothers. If they knew what was coming for them...

As Adam passed a town he slowed down, suddenly very conscious that he didn’t have a license on him, or a phone. He really did not want to risk getting pulled over. No license, stolen car, looking as 19 as the day he died, it wouldn’t be good.

With nothing to do but drive down an empty road, Adam pondered his existence. He supposed it hadn’t really hit him that he had escaped hell less than 24 hours ago, because for that to happen he would need to remember hell. He knew he had been there, knew it was horrible, could feel the evil of the memories at the back of his mind, but his recently reanimated brain was blocking them, probably out of shock, and for now, Adam was grateful. He was not looking forward to when the gates would open. He needed to be strong when he hunted his brother, not a quivering mess. For a while, Adam pondered life post Dean, but decided it didn’t matter. He had priorities, and Crowley had hinted at a way to help Adam with his memories. _If_ Dean Winchester was brought to him.

Supposedly, it was October, 2014. Adam had found a newspaper at his cheap motel, and had read it. It had been 5 years since he fell, but it felt like so much longer. Adam looked 19 and was really 24, but he didn’t feel 19 or 24. He felt ancient, all the years of damnation weighing on his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the details, but he could remember the time. His fingers clenched the steering wheel angrily, and red clouded his vision. His brothers had let him rot in hell for _5 fucking years_. Sure, Sam had dragged him down, but if Dean had gotten him out of the golden room, Adam wouldn’t have said yes in the first place. It was both their faults. He would make them both pay.

The more Adam drove, the less the anger flared up, however it was still there, feeding a burning pit of resentment. A while down the road, Adam saw a sign indicating that he was 50 miles from Lebanon. Next to the sign was an old, dusty gas station, and Adam’s heart leapt in his throat as he saw a familiar, hideous tan mustang parked by it. _Crap. I stole that car. And left it 50 miles from Lawrence. Crap._ Adam felt the money he had taken from the car burn a hole in his pocket, and he winced as two people exited the car, a man in a long tan trench coat, and a woman in black slacks, both with dark brown hair. Not wanting to be more guilt ridden than necessary, Adam sped to a breakneck speed, leaving his former car and it’s owners behind in even more dust.

It was nearly nightfall by the time Adam approached what he guessed was the bunker. With it’s pale yellow brickwork, isolate location, and door sunken down several steps into the earth, it seemed ideal for a hiding spot. Adam parked his car then rushed down the steps to a heavy metal door. He turned the handle.... and found it unlocked. Smiling, Adam ran inside, leaving the door to shut with a resounding metal echo.

 

Sam jumped in surprise at the far-off sounding boom, his hand holding the syringe hovering over Dean’s exposed arm. In front of him, Dean smirked.

“What’s the matter, Sammy? Afraid of a little noise?” Sam rolled his eyes, sick of hearing the never-ending contempt in Dean’s voice.

‘It’s not a noise, Dean. Someone’s got into the bunker. It can’t be Cas... He called from at least 10 miles away just a minute ago. I’m going to go check it out. But first...” Sam jammed the needle into his brother’s arm, ignoring Dean’s cursing and flailing. He walked out of the cellar without another word.

 

Okay. This place was _awesome_. Adam watched the glittering controls, mesmerized by the sheer quantity. He was in what could only be described as a control room, with high arching ceilings, maps, lights, buzzers, and a long, brown table in the center. Stupefied, Adam walked along the length of the room, taking in the books, the swords, everything. He knew his brothers were hunters, the best if the rumors in hell were to be believed, but still. The massive scale of this operation unnerved Adam. As he walked along the bookshelves, he couldn’t help but wonder. With all the resources his brothers seemed to have, why hadn’t they found a way to rescue him?

Once the original shock began to wear off, fear and anger began to set in. Mainly fear. He had known what he had signed up for, sure, but now that he was here it all began to feel more real. Less like the fever dreams he had had in the cage. Dean Winchester was scary enough as a hunter. Now he was supercharged, and immortal, without morals.... And Adam was supposed to bring him in. Awesome.

The sound of footsteps snapped Adam out of his daze, and he quickly hid behind a bookshelf as Sam came into the room, holding a syringe. As he moved, Adam studied his brother carefully. His hair was a lot longer, his arm was in a sling, he looked like he hadn’t slept in years, but other than that he looked fine. Not like someone who had survived 100 years of archangel torture. For a second, Adam held on to a glimmer of hope. _If he can get better, then so can I_. Sam had, however, probably had help. Adam would need Crowley, and for that he would need Dean. Sam looked along the bookcases and around the room, before turning and walking away. Keeping a beady eye on Sam’s retreating back, Adam began to follow one of his brothers. The other he would drag down, down, down.


	3. Not Your Ideal Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks so much for reading! So this chapter still takes place in 10x03, and I would recommend rewatching the episode. Enjoy!

Ch. 3

Not Your Ideal Family Reunion

Adam followed Sam through several dark hallways, around twists and turns and fluorescent lighting. Most of the green and white hallways had several gray doors, most closed. A few were open, though, and while making sure to lag behind Sam, Adam peered into their rooms. Two had beds on them, one with guns on the walls. One had what appeared to be a giant old computer. This was a very, very weird place. The sound of a door opening reached Adam’s ears, and he peered around a corner just in time to see Sam disappear into a closet. Adam rushed forward, ready for confrontation, but when he wrenched the door open he found a closet full of files and shelves. And it was empty.

 

No, no, no. Adam was not going crazy. He had seen Sam come into this room. He was sure of it. The room, however, was cramped, small, stuffed with boxes upon boxes upon cabinets of files. A quick peek showed them to be hunter files. This really was the supernatural motherload. Adam punched a box, not caring how much sound it made. The stack of papers precariously perched on said box tumbled to the floor with a thump. Adam swore venomously, then bent down to pick them up, haphazardly stuffing them together. It was as he was doing this that he noticed an unnatural shaft of light along the back wall of the closet. He put his hand on top of the perfectly straight golden line, and felt a faint draft. Adam almost laughed in relief. It wasn’t a wall. It was a door. A door to what, he wasn’t sure, but he was confident with some investigation he could figure it out. Adam stood up and eagerly pressed his ear against a gap in the cabinets. He could hear two muffled voices. _Sam and Dean. This is great! I know where Dean is, and I know how to corner him. All I need is for Sam to leave for a minute_ \- No sooner were these thoughts made present that Adam began to hear footsteps from the other room, getting closer to the door. _Shoot_. It was probably Sam, no doubt to investigate the noise Adam had made with the papers he was now clutching to his chest. He now threw the papers back on top of their box, and, not knowing what else to do, flung himself out of the room and threw open the door directly across the hallway. He closed it just as light pooled into the closet around a very tall shadow.

Through the peephole in his makeshift room, Adam marvelled at the wa the crates swung open to reveal a dimly lit grey room. Adam couldn’t make out much, however, as Sam’s frame blocked out just about everything but the light. He watched Sam snoop around the closet, but after getting bored he turned to the room sheltering it. It was another bedroom, and it was stark bare. The closet was open and empty. A quick investigation showed that the cabinets and dressers were too. There were no bedclothes on the bed and it all had a gray tinge. A lot less homey than the rooms he had passed. Still, it was better than the cage. Adam shook his thoughts away from the cage, but was distracted enough to open his door and step into the hallway before looking first. Luckily, Sam had his back to him and was walking back into the secret room. Adam peered around his brother’s massive silhouette to see a very strange sight.

It was Dean, in a maroon shirt and with longer hair than Adam remembered, but it was Dean. He was handcuffed and tied to a chair in the center of what Adam vaguely recognized as a devil’s trap, and wincing at the droplets of water just thrown on his face. His black eyes and his look of murder at his brother gave Adam chills, and for a millisecond he thought he saw Dean’s eyes flick to him, but given that the doors to the cell closed a millisecond later he was forced to conclude that he had imagined it. Shakily, Adam took a few tentative steps forward into the closet. When nothing happened he made his way over to the back wall and listened.

 

“Dean, somebody followed me here. Did you send for someone to rescue you?”

“Holy crap, Sam, no! The last thing I want is help from Crowley, and even if I did, how would I do it, huh?”

“Crowley managed. He was in the exact situation you are now.” Sam quipped.

“Well last I checked I didn’t bite you. And Crowley’s rescue force didn’t really work out now, did it.” Sam and Dean glared angrily at each other for another moment before Sam straightened up and rubbed his chin angrily.

At last, Sam dropped his glare and sighed. “I hate demons.” he said mournfully.

“I’ve got a hell lot more running through me than demon juice.”

With his ear pressed against the secret door, Adam listened to his brothers’ conversation eagerly. Sam suspected him. That was bad. Dean was, however, chained up, and that was good. And it sounded like Sam was injecting Dean with.... did he just say blood? As he listened, Adam eyed a stack of crates against a side wall. That would be the perfect hiding spot once Sam decided to come out. Hopefully he would be too emotionally compromised to notice Adam because.... damn. Dean was saying some harsh things. And they just brought up John and no, that was not okay. Adam clenched his fists. Thinking about his father, and all the issues and complexities that came with it, would not be good. Not when he was this unstable. Adam needed to finish his mission. The patter of footsteps made him dive behind a pile of crates, but not before catching one more anger riddled exchange.

“Is this you maning up?” Dean sniggered.

“This is me pulling your lame ass out of the fire.”

The wall parted and Sam stormed out, walked right past Adam and out of the closet. Just before the door shut Adam saw Sam reach for his phone, presumably to call Cas. Adam waited in the dark unmoving for one second. Two seconds passed, then three, then four, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Then, a voice came from the darkness, dripping with malice.

“Kid? You gonna stay there all day?” Adam froze, halfway to standing. He knew that voice, had only just listened to it, but it is one thing to hear a twisted soul talk and then have it talk to you. It sounded too much like a particular archangel. “Come out, come out....” Dean taunted, and Adam’s feet moved of their own accord he stood and walked slowly over to the entrance to the secret room. There before him was a face he had not confronted in hundreds of years.

“Dean.” Adam croaked, at a loss for any other words. Dean raised his head.

“I’ll be damned. Again.” His eyes flashed black before returning to normal. “It really is you. I caught a glimpse, when you saw me all trussed up, but I couldn’t be sure. Sorry for the mess.” With what little mobility Dean had he gestured to his cuffs and the blood and water on the floor. “It’s been one hell of a family reunion.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Adam said shakily. Adam flinched at the fear in his voice and Dean grinned maliciously.

“So,” Dean said _way_ to causally, “What brings you to Lebanon? Or, more importantly, what brought you out of hell?”

“Crowley.” Adam said simply, the handcuffs in his pocket suddenly feeling very heavy.

“Crowley.” Dean whistled. “Didn’t know he had that kind of juice. Makes sense, though, considering he’s the reason behind this.” Dean gestured at himself pompously, the horrible grin never leaving his face. “Listen, Adam,” he continued in a more serious but no less mocking tone, “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here? See, normally I’d torture you till you’d stammer it out, but I’m a little tied up.”

“I- I-”

“Wow! I didn’t even have to torture you!” Adam glared but there was more fear behind it than heat. He took a deep breath before continuing. He had to remind himself that Dean was in a devil’s trap. He couldn’t hurt Adam.

“I’m supposed to bring you to Crowley.” Adam said. He swallowed in anticipation as Dean’s grin fell. He looked disbelieving, but then he broke out into a harsh laugh. The hairs on the back of Adam’s neck stood up at the sound of it.

“You’re kidding!” Dean roared. “They send you,” a pointed glare looked Adam up and down, “to capture me and drag me to hell. A scrawny, traumatic head case who wasn’t even mourned by his own brothers. I mean I knew Crowley couldn’t take a hint but come on!”

“Well when you say it like that I guess it doesn’t make a lot of sense.” Adam said, a little more strongly. He recognized that Dean was just trying to unnerve him, and it was working. Two could play at this game. “I mean, why go get you when you’re here, trussed up like a christmas turkey. I mean it sounds personal. It’s not like you were his boyfriend or anything.” Anger flashed in Dean’s eyes.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Oh, so you were his bitch, then!”

Dean’s eyes flashed black, and Adam probably should have taken that as a warning. He probably should have shut up then and there, thinking about how soon Sam might be back. But damn it, Dean had let Adam rot in hell. Damn him if he wasn’t going to get a little upset. “I see how it is! He raises you to be his little plaything, expects you to be all grateful, and with your usual megalomania you decide that coming back from the dead wasn’t good enough! You decide to go out and have your own little murder spree. Well that worked out so great for you, huh. Now you’re being put down by a ‘scrawny 19-year old boy’. And by the way, I’m actually 24.” Adam sneered at his brother. Dean looked annoyed and angry, but then he smiled.

“Kid, in a couple weeks whatever crap emotions are holding your mind together are going to break, and then you’ll be catatonic. You don’t have Sam’s nice little wall to keep yourself together. Speaking of which, do you know how Sam got out of the cage?” Adam didn’t. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward intently as Dean continued. “I got him out. I struck a deal with Death. The horseman. I met him during the apocalypse. He tested me and I failed, but he pitied me. He told me I could get one soul out. Yours or Sam’s. I chose Sam the moment he finished his sentence. I didn’t hesitate even for a split second. My mind was already made up. And you know what? I think that moment, four years ago, was the last time either of us ever thought about you.”

“Liar!” Adam whispered, in shock. He couldn’t help it. With Dean's words and his mind games, it was too much. Michael and Lucifer were pounding at the doors, demanding to be let in. Nevertheless, he stayed rooted to the spot as Dean continued.

“It was a mistake. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have saved either of you. See Sam,” he grimaced, “Sam’s been injecting me with human blood, trying to ‘purify’ me. Like I’m sick.” Contempt and disgust dripped off of Dean’s words. “What Sam doesn’t know is that it’s working. Well, kind of. Enough to do this.” With a devilish grin Dean snapped his right handcuff off of his wrist, sending it flying into the air. Adam flinched as it landed with a sharp _clang!_ at his feet. Dean’s grin widened as he snapped off the other one. It, too, landed at Adam’s feet. “Those are about as useful as the ones in your pocket.”

Dean groaned as he stood up, stretching out the muscles in his arms and twisting his back side to side. Adam was suddenly aware of how tall he was, and how menacing. _Holy crap. He’s going to kill me!_

“You know, Adam, I pity you, and you’ll be no fun once you’re dead. Anyways, it’s Sam I’ll have to get past to get out of here. Why don’t I give you a 10 second head start?”

Adam wasted no time. Turning on his heel, he raced out of the dungeon, past the closet, down an intricate path of twists and turns, breath panting and chest heaving. Behind him, Dean swaggered along in the opposite direction, walking like he owned the place. Which, Adam supposed, he did.


	4. Soul Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here's another chapter! It's the last one that takes place in canon 10x03. Everything that comes next is AU. Enjoy!

Ch. 4

Soul Survivors

Adam heard things as he ran. Shouting, mainly coming from Dean, but with the occasional reply from Sam. He couldn’t focus on the words, he was mainly focused on running, to where he had no idea, and how he would survive he also had no idea. Adam knew, however, that he had to find Sam before Dean did. Not just for Sam’s sake, but for his. His fevered brain kicked into survival gear. He needed a weapon. Now. He had ditched the handcuffs- the clattering in his pocket had slowed him down, and, as Dean pointed out, they were now useless- and was relying solely on ihs hearing. It didn’t help that the place echoed. He had only the faintest idea where Sam and Dean were in this labyrinth, and where they were in reference to each other.

After who knows how long, Adam stumbled back into the control room. Tripping over his own feet in haste, he fumbled with a drawer in a nearby table, hoping to find something, anything to help him. Car keys, a gun... aha! In the drawer side by side were two hammers. Adam picked one up and tested the weight in his hand. _Good enough. This should do alright._ He had begun to have hope again when the lights shut off and and alarm blared. Then the lights came back on, flashing red. _This must be Sam’s idea of keeping Dean contained in the bunker. Oh boy, Dean is NOT going to be happy!_ And indeed Adam heard the angry roar of his demonic brother. Panicking on how close to the control room it sounded, Adam gulped, before picking a random hallway and heading on his way.

 

Heading through empty tunnels alone, in red flashing lights, waiting to be on the receiving end of fratricide, was really starting to mess with Adam’s brain. His composure was slipping, the hand holding his hammer shaking. The boards in the back of his mind were splintering, and he was beginning to see glimpses of terrible things. When the lights had finally come back on, it was a relief. The semi-darkness and constant noise felt a little too much like downstairs, but that relief was short lived. Adam could hear his brothers shouting again, but with the echos and his pounding headache, it was impossible to gauge their distance. Therefore it was a complete surprise when Adam whirled around a corner and found himself facing Sam’s back. Adam clamped a hand over his own mouth to stop a surprised yelp that threatened to escape, but luckily Sam hadn’t noticed him. He was too preoccupied with Dean smashing a door to bits before his very eyes. On close observation, it could be seen that Dean was smashing said door with a familiar-looking hammer. Adam in his mind’s eye pictured the drawer in the control room. The door he had failed to close completely. Dean had the other hammer. Dean was using it to smash down a door. Dean was going to kill them.

A sizable hole was in the door, enough for Dean to have visibility of both his brothers. “You act like I want to be cured!” he shouted at Sam, but his eyes were looking at Adam. “Personally, I like the disease.” _Run._ His eyes seemed to say. _I’m going to kill Sammy. And then I’m going to kill you._

It wasn’t a warning. It was a hunter glorifying in the chase.

For the first time in his life Adam listened to Dean without question. He turned and bolted, the pattering of his feet noiseless against a cacophony of splintering wood. By the time Sam ran as well, Adam was long gone in some distant hallway, panting for breath, and cursing whoever had created the monster that was Dean Winchester.

 

“C’mon, Sammy! Let’s have a beer, talk about this!” It had only been minutes and Dean was egging his brother on again. Adam couldn’t tell from where, only that the voice was behind him and that was bad. In front of him, Adam saw Sam, crouched around a corner, hoping to catch sight of his brother. Sam had ran past Adam’s hideout hallway only a minute previously, and Adam, lacking better judgement, had followed him. He crept up behind Sam, not sure if he would attack him or knock him out or beg him for help. Sam, in his observance, was oblivious, and Adam had time to contemplate the phenomena of his existence. He looked just like Lucifer- even after Sam left the cage Lucifer had occasionally used his visage- and yet in so many ways wasn’t. It was fascinating really. Then the sole of Adam’s shoe squeaked on the tiled floor, and Sam whirled around in alarm, blinking in surprise at what was surely the last thing he expected to see; Adam Milligan, in all his glory, with a hammer raised threateningly.

“Adam?” Sam said, half a question, half a shout of surprise. He looked accusing and confused, but it slowly gave way to mild surprise and sympathy. He reached out to grasp his shoulder but Adam jumped back in alarm. It was too much- Hell and Crowley and Dean and now his brother looking exactly like the Devil and oh god the fear of being killed and going crazy and what’s Sam going to do to him and forget that what's Dean going to do to him and the hammer! It was too much, so Adam swung his hammer harshly at Lucifer’s exposed head.

It took a half-second for Adam to regain control of his mind, but by then it was too late. Sam, to his credit, easily dodged Adam’s blow, and looked only mildly alarmed Then, suddenly, he looked a great deal more alarmed.

‘That’s enough!” said a gruff voice behind Adam, and he had only a moment to register the hands around his arms before he was pitched violently backwards, ending up in a heap along the opposite wall. Sam squawked in alarm at the sickening _crunch!_ Adam had made upon impact, but instead of helping him stood transfixed in horror. Pain coursed through Adam’s system, primarily a sharp pain in his head and upper back, where he had hit the wall. It took all his strength to open his left eye- his right eye being pressed against the ground- and he saw from an askew angle as Dean walked over from where he had thrown Adam to where said boy lay pathetically on the ground. He squatted down to be level with him. “Listen, kid, if anyone gets to kill my brother, it’s going to be me. Understand?” Dean shot him with a look so sharp, Adam felt compelled to nod in response, despite the now searing pain in his forehead. Then, in a movement so terrifyingly quick and catlike, Dean raised himself from the ground, ran to his brother, and swung _his_ hammer at his head. This time, Sam was forced to duck, and that was all Adam saw before he blacked out.


End file.
